Touchable Flames (Sandor-OFC)
by Fukuro Senju
Summary: "Sometimes you have to fall from the mountain to realize what you are climbing for. Obstacles are placed in our way to see if what we want is really worth fighting for. From every wound, there's a scar, and every scar tells a story. A story that says, 'I was deeply wounded but I survived it.'" MOSTLY AN AU STORY! DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was made from a plot bunny and has to be the shortest introduction I have written in a very long time. 367 words if I'm reading this correctly.**

 **This story is a test-run just like it is for any of my other stories. It is also a Sandor/OFC story too. So, there will be a lot of mature themes in here as well as some sexy times too.** **I have been wanting to write a Sandor story for quite some time and honestly, I have to go and edit _Winter Gray and Autumn Gold_ because of how sloppily and hastily written it was. I'll get to it eventually, but for now, I'll be focusing on the ones already posted up here. **

**This is also _UNEDITED_ and not peer-reviewed whatsoever. So, what you see is what I have written straight from the Microsoft Word document. Also, if you guys want to know what my OC looks like, look up Palina Rojinski and there you go :). **

**Hope you enjoy reading the introduction to _Touchable Flames_ (which is subject to change later on) :D!**

* * *

 ** _Introduction_**

He looked into her dark emerald eyes and knew she was different from all the rest. She looked into his eyes and knew that he was broken under that impenetrable armor he wore every day of his life. He knew that she was the one he wanted for himself before any other got their hand on her. She knew that he was a capable protector and warrior who she can trust despite his large and fierce appearance.

All it took was a meeting in an unexpected place where one would least expect to find a virgin. Just that one place and they came together just before times got tough making them go through challenges that could have made or broken them down. All it took was the workings of the second Mad King to make them escaped finding a better life for them both.

Meeting the Starks the years before had changed the course of their lives forever. He had taken on his first squire, she had found a friend in Lord and Lady Stark as well as the children. And all it took was that one visit in that one place that began this unexpected journey.

 _"_ _I mess up, I start fights, and I easily get jealous. This isn't going to change anytime soon so get used to it. But, I don't play. I give my all and these feelings I have for you are quite deep"_

 _"_ _I can't promise that I can fix all of your problems. I can promise, however, that you most certainly won't face them alone."_

 _"_ _Sometimes you have to fall from the mountain to realize what you are climbing for. Obstacles are placed in our way to see if what we want is really worth fighting for. From every wound, there's a scar, and every scar tells a story. A story that says, 'I was deeply wounded but I survived it.'"_

 _"_ _Know this whenever you feel like there's no one there to protect you: 'A hound will die for you, but won't look you in the face and lie to it either.'"_

Many things can be said and heard but not many can say that they were true and honest.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's another chapter for the night everyone :D! WOOT! I'm on a roll! Well ... until I get writer's block again :P.**

 **In this chapter, it introduces my OC, Tarya, where she is, why she is there (vaguely explained to retain some mystery to her character), and also how she met Sandor and his thoughts on her towards the second half of the chapter. For those who want to know what she looks like, look up Palina Rojinski.**

 **Also, I want to point out that this version of Sandor is the Rory McCann version of Sandor. The only difference is that he has the stormy gray eyes that he has in the books. Everything else is purely Rory McCann's portrayal of Sandor in the HBO adaptation of _Game of Thrones._**

 **This story is mostly an AU that starts approximately three years before the start of canon. However, it will follow the timeline very loosely but still based on it as it is an AU story.**

 **Now that's out of the way, I hope you all enjoy reading this first chapter of _Touchable Flames_ :D!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter I_**

If it had been her choice, she wouldn't be here in King's Landing. Most certainly not here in this gods-forsaken place either surrounded by drunken men, alcohol of all sorts and the women here too.

The life of being a servant to a brothel was not easy. Especially when it came to a man like Petyr Baelish of all people. She had been here for five years and not once had her "services" been asked for. Or at least the prospect of a "working woman" staying pure was too much to let go of. However, for Petyr Baelish, it was a nuisance and a hindrance to his business investments.

Unlike most girls her age, she was an early bloomer. Becoming a "woman" by age 11 due to having started her moonblood and had developed her womanly curves early as well. It was unheard of in Westeros. Despite her exotic looks and early "womanhood", there has not been a single suitor. Whether it was because of her being a lowly serving girl or of her early blooming, she did not know.

A long sigh escaped her mouth as she sat down in the chair in front of her vanity. Seeing her fair skin, dark emerald eyes, and bright golden-red hair akin to fire in the light. Such features didn't exist anywhere commonly or in large quantities either. She was a stocky, plump girl with huge curves, an oval-shaped face with full cheeks and strong jawline. Though, she honestly had no idea who or where she can contribute her looks to.

Another sigh left her lips as she started to brush her long thick curly hair thoroughly just before she turned in for the night. However, it seemed that it wasn't going to be the case either.

"Hey! Tarya! Lord Baelish wants you working downstairs!"

"Alright, I'll be down in a few minutes!"

"Don't take too long!"

Tarya set down the brush as she put on her handmade pale green dress. It was a simple cotton dress that had large bell sleeves, and a low neckline that showed a bit of her overabundant cleavage. She eyed her huge bosom with a hint of discomfort wishing that it was much smaller instead. Alas, it seemed mother nature had a different plan for her body. She tied her thick red hair back from her face on the sides and left it that way. She never cared for the traditional attire for this … "career choice". It was too revealing and she wasn't "worthy" of it considering she was still pure even at 21 name-days. And the elaborate hairstyles of the southern ladies made it look like they had bird's nests on top of their heads. It was quite unnecessary, but she admitted that they did have their artistic flares to them.

The sounds of men hooping and hollering all across the common area drifted harshly into her ears as she picked up the first tray given to her. Dornish sour red drifted into her nose causing it to wrinkle a the strong smell. Many men prefer this drink just for its euphoric capabilities and also do its strong taste. Tarya had not drunk a drop of alcohol in her life so she couldn't say for sure. An hour past by with her serving drinks and avoiding groping hands as much as possible. However, there were too many close calls as well and one of the actual whores made sure to distract them properly.

She hated this place, hated this life, hated that she had to live in a brothel or be kicked out on the streets to starve to death in Flea Bottom. Most of all, she hated the fact that she can't do anything about it either. Her eyes hurt from all the smoke and brightness of the lighting, her hand ached from gripping the trays too tightly, her feet throbbed from walking and standing on them for too long, and her back began to hurt from having to stand for a better part of the hour. It's a wonder how she managed to do this for the past five years of her life.

As she neared a table in the back, a hand took a hold of her wrist causing her to jump out of her daze and into the harsh world of reality. Her dark green eyes met those of bright gray causing her shiver all over form the intense expression he gave her.

"More Dornish red girl."

A prominent rasp was in his voice, but the semi-gentle drawl of his words distracted her from the badly burnt side of his face. Honestly, they didn't bother her as much as Tarya thought they would. Remembering that he asked for more wine, she started to pour some into his tankard.

"Let me know when it's enough for you, sir."

"I'm no Ser."

It seemed more rehearsed than anything, but the disdain and anger behind it gave her a clear indication that he hated the term vehemently. She nodded and a soft grunt gave her the signal to stop pouring. Just as Tarya was about to walk away, his rasp reached her ears again.

"Sit down girl. You look like you're about to fall on your fucking face."

An embarrassed flush reached her cheeks as she bit her lip in thought. _"I suppose that a few minutes wouldn't hurt. More of the girls are down here to work for the night and Ros is definitely going to be up the whole night again."_ With that reason in mind, Tarya sat down in front of the large man, which she honestly had just noticed that part of his physique, quite gracelessly. A snort of amusement left his lips just as she smiled a bit sheepishly too.

"What's a girl like you doing here? You look too much like one of those highborn 'ladies' to be in a shithole like this."

"Well, the only reason I'm here is that of Baelish's fetish with voluptuous red-haired women. That and my mother didn't want to raise a bastard child anymore either."

A snort of amusement turned into an inquiring look about her newly mentioned baseborn status. He didn't say anything, nor did he seem to want to as he took generous sips of the wine in his cup.

"So, what about you? What brings you to this shithole as you so eloquently put it?"

An amused smirk appeared on his face as he barked out in a moment of laughter. Tarya found herself relaxing in this man's presence despite his fierce appearance and intimidating stature. It wasn't hard to figure out that this large man was a well-seasoned warrior and would not hesitate to kill if it meant he survived. She has seen it far too many times to not know how to spot a man like that. Or woman depending on the culture and ways of their house.

"Wine and possibly a whore for the night, but mostly wine."

"Ah, I see. I would recommend Ros, but she'll be occupied for the night I think."

He seemed to look at her bemused and in what seemed like hidden surprise. His gray eyes looked in the direction of the nearly naked Ros and a scoff escaped his mouth at the sight.

"Why not you? Aren't you a whore?"

Instead of being offended as most would think will happen. She shrugged instead and gave an honest, but humbly flippant answer that was the norm for her.

"Nope. I'm just an old virgin working as a servant girl in this gods-forsaken place."

Now that caught his attention and his confused shock was directed at her as she slowly got to her feet once again stretching a little bit as she did so. She gave a small smirk at the appraising look she got from him before taking the tray into her hands again.

"I'll probably be up for most of the night. So, if you want a place to crash let me know and I'll give you my rooms to use."

If Tarya hadn't of seen the man breathing much less hear him talk earlier, she wouldn't have thought he was alive from how frozen stiff he seemed to be in his shock. She gave him what she had hoped was a warm smile before moving into the crowd with a grimace to work once again.

Sandor Clegane didn't know what to expect when he entered Littlefucker's brothel at this time of the evening. He had another shitty day as Joffrey's sworn shield and it wasn't even one of the _bad days_! The little shit thought it would be cute to try to tease and mock Tommen as they practiced their sword training again. He had to pull Joffrey off the younger prince to prevent him from treating his brother like he did with Tommen's cats. It reminded him too much of those servants pulling Gregor off him when he got his face burnt that the old friend of rage had almost consumed him.

The boy wasn't even ten yet and it was already torture enough to have to deal with it every day. He contributed Joffrey's early onset of madness to him being a product of incest and also his mother's innate sense of cruelty. It didn't help that the boy had no stable father-figure in his life either. Robert was too busy fucking, drinking, and shitting his days away instead of being a true king and father. Jaime was pretty much forbidden from interacting with the children by Cersei, which he absolutely hated most in his top five list of things about her. The Imp was the only one who was any sort of true father-figure to them all and the children knew that in their own ways.

He admits to himself that he would have preferred being either Myrcella's or Tommen's shield instead of Joffrey's. However, he knew that if the boy had gone unsupervised he would do far nastier things than he has done already.

Sandor entered the brothel to the sight of drunkards drinking and groping naked, or nearly naked, whores on top of their laps. Some had even started to do more than just that before leading the men upstairs for a nightly visit. It was foul and disgusting even by his own standards. Admittedly, he has fucked whores before and would do it again too; however, he was extremely picky about the ones he chose for the night. He had to pick the more open-minded whores because of the ruin that was his face and because of his reputation as the Hound to name a couple. There was also the reason for him being a bit bigger than average too. So, he preferred the plumper ones because of it.

To think that the plumpest girl he has ever seen by far being used as a mere serving girl was a shock in itself. Quite the disgrace too. Sandor had never seen a girl act so casual and relaxed in his presence whatsoever. It could have been that his mother and sister were the other exceptions, but he was too young to remember them at all.

He watched her wide, rounded hips sway as she walked back into the crowded chaos. It was enough to set his blood afire for the umpteenth time that night since he had seen her when he first walked through the door. Her red hair was lit like a halo of flames and her dark green eyes sparkled in their emotional depth and life. She is by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Even more so than that cunt, Cersei Lannister, the Queen of all Westeros. A scoff escaped his mouth at the thought. She was no more a queen than Robert was the king. Cersei only cared for herself and her selfish motives and ambitions. Nothing more, nothing less. She cared for her children, yes, but that was only because they looked similar to herself and her twin. How twistedly narcissistic can one person get?

Another gulp of the strong Dornish red rushed down his throat nicely leaving a burning heat in his stomach. He was going to pay for this in the morning that's for sure. Blowing up chunks and dealing with an excruciating headache in the morning doesn't seem all appealing either. So, instead, he watched the red-haired servant girl who went from customer to customer giving out alcohol of all sorts and plates of food to slow down the rate of intoxication. The slight grimace on her face was enough to tell him that she hated what she was doing.

It somehow looked quite out of place on her. He can imagine that she was used to smiling and laughing versus frowning and grumbling all the time. Much different than himself that's for sure. To see a woman who smiled genuinely was sure to not only get hurt here but also extremely rare to see. His gray eyes watched her form as it weaved away from the reaching hands of the lustful drunks and also from those who were about to vomit from overconsumption. It seemed quite unsightly and seemed almost wrong to see her in a place like this. _"Hmm, if only …"_

From the outside point of view, it would seem that the infamous Hound was watching his prey preparing for his next kill by how focused and intense his gaze was. However, in all reality, he is simply thinking as the wheels turned in his head. His gaze very rarely left the red-haired serving girl's overly plump and curvaceous frame. A small barely noticeable smirk appeared on his face as he turned his attention to his empty tankard. _"It seems I'll be dealing with Littlefucker in due time once the tourney's over."_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: HEY GUYS! I'm so glad that a lot of you are reading this story too! Thank you all so much for giving this story a chance.**

 **I just wanted to let all of you guys know that there's a lot going on in this chapter and it is a spur of the moment chapter. Which means that I just sat down and wrote it out without any planning whatsoever. I apologize for any errors on my part as well as any inaccuracies that are involved in this chapter.**

 **To summarize the chapter: Tarya find's a note, goes shopping the next day with a friend of hers who is another OC of mine, Sandor finds Joffrey about to attack his siblings in a fit of rage, takes him to Robert who blows a fuse and FINALLY puts him in his place, and there's a plot twist at the end that you may or may not enjoy too much. Again, I'm giving out apologies for any misconceptions.**

 **Now that's out of the way, I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter of _Touchable Flames_ :D!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter II_**

By the time the night was over, Tarya had noticed that the scarred man from before had gone home. When she had gone to clean his table up, she found five gold dragons and a note there. She was so shocked that she couldn't even read the note until the safety of her rooms was within her reach.

The door was bolted shut and then she opened the letter to read it. The penmanship was legible if a bit sloppy too. She didn't expect much from it, but it did amaze her with how well written this is especially when she had caught glances of his large hands earlier that night. Slightly shaking her head to clear it, Tarya started to read the note carefully.

 _Expect me to come back soon. Can't tell you when since I don't know, but be sure to the Dornish red on hand._

 _~SC_

Tarya couldn't help the joy making it's way to her face as she smiled. The way her heart raced at the simple note and warmed at the terse yet honest sentences made her feel giddy inside. If she didn't know any better, Tarya would be thinking that he was courting her in his own way. However, she very much doubted it. No man had truly desired to court her and win her favor. They only wanted to shred her clothes off and fuck her like the whores working here. Use her body with no regard for her feelings or desires. However, seeing that he made the effort to leave a note letting her know when he'll be back, the simple gesture was worth a thousand words in her eyes.

She shook her head to clear the haze that clouded her mind slightly scolding herself. Tarya knew that getting her hopes up was a bad idea and would do her no good if it came down to disappointment. The note was placed on her vanity gently before she picked it up again looking at the initials he signed it with. S and a C. As far as she knew that there's only one man who had those initials that frequented places like this brothel. Sandor "Hound" Clegane. To think she didn't recognize him sooner made her feel so stupid yet even more humbled than before. His burn scars should have given him away, but she was too tired to put much thought into it at the time that she overlooked it.

 _"_ _What did a fierce man such as the Hound want to do with me?"_ She was just a simple serving girl with too big of curves and a plumpness that wasn't common either. It must have been that or even her bright red hair color and dark emerald eyes. Such looks made her exotic in a way that wasn't possible for most. Most red-haired women had either brown eyes or blue eyes, especially the women of House Tully to name one, and Ros seemed to have dark eyes with her own red hair. Still, what had she done to gain his almost immediate attention?

A long sigh escaped her lips as she sat down at her vanity to brush out her curly hair in an absentminded manner. Tarya was raised as a bastard child in the Riverlands after her mother had fled her home in the Westerlands. She was 16 when her mother had kicked her out to have her work in this very brothel. She remembered that her mother had golden hair and bright feline green eyes. As far as she knew, her mother's name was Lynora and she believed to be a Lannister bastard born from Ser Jason Lannister. She honestly could not care less about it. Her mother was nice enough, but she was too cold, too distant during her earlier years. She knew almost nothing of her father and her mother wouldn't talk about him either. She was got that lioness prideful rage in her eyes at the mention of the topic. It was almost like she didn't want her to know about him whatsoever. Which was fine by her. Tarya strongly disliked her mother. They had never gotten along and she would always tell her that she was too much like her father for own good. That would be one of the few times she was given any information regarding her sire in her whole life.

Her fingers set down the hairbrush with that thought as she dressed for bed. A simple cotton night-shift was enough. The feeling of silk against her bare skin and the linen sheets was enough for it to feel slimy in a way that made her toss and turn in her sleep too much. If it were a dress for her to wear during the day, then it wouldn't have bothered her as much.

As she laid in her large feather-bed, she couldn't help but wonder just it might be like if he had a true interest in her beyond her looks. If he actually wanted to court her. However, she couldn't get her hopes up in case it wasn't true. Another sigh left her lips as she turned the oil lamp off and fell into a deep sleep.

The market was buzzing with activity to help everyone get ready for the upcoming tournament at the end of the week. Tarya couldn't help but look on both bemused and amazed at all of the fuss over it. She doesn't think she's ever been since that one tournament when she was 16. It was how she met her current employer, Petyr Baelish. A tall, slender, and lanky man that made her think of an eel with how fake and slippery he was in his speech and mannerisms. His dark, almost black, hair was short and littered with silver to the sides of his face. A carefully groomed thin mustache and bread framed his chin and mouth making him even more sleazy-looking. What made her uncomfortable the most was his eyes. Light jade eyes that had an emptiness in them that oftentimes revealed his thirst for power and esteem among the elite.

She could barely look him in the eyes they bothered her so much. The greed and lust in their empty depths were overwhelming and unbearable. Tarya pitied the Councilmen who had to deal with him on a daily basis.

Her dark emerald eyes took in the different fabrics that could be made into dresses and clothes of all sorts. Tarya honestly was merely looking and not planning on buying anything. She had plenty of well-made dresses already and didn't need any more than she already did. However, her friend, Aesha, was a fellow servant girl in Littlefinger's brothel, had other plans for her.

"Oh, my! This would look great with her complexion Tarya!"

Aesha was a bubbly woman who always seemed to have a smile on her face whenever she found something she liked and enjoyed. She was much shorter than herself but was also much chubbier and fuller in the hips with a bust to match. Her full face was dusted with freckles on her nose-bridge and under her sparkling sapphire blue eyes. Long dirty blonde hair fell down below her shoulders in gentle waves that only seem to accent her beauty. She was the only friend that Tarya can rely on here in King's Landing for she was a true friend.

"I suppose it would Aesha. Maybe I can make a dress out of it for the tournament."

"Oh! I forgot all about that! Maybe, I should consider doing the same too. Wouldn't want to leave you all by your lonesome now would we?"

Tarya giggled at the playful tone that she used before shaking her head in agreement. She chose a vibrant lavender colored fabric that depicted a series of flowers surrounding a dog leaping in the air. The design itself was in a subtle shade of gold that made it almost impossible to see unless the sunlight reflected off of it. Yes, she would be using this fabric. Aesha was excited in her usual manner at the sight of the elaborate designs and showmanship of the stitches. Aesha was looking through the fabrics for her own usage but had a slightly overwhelmed expression on her face. Tarya picked up a navy-blue fabric that had a lighter shade of blue thread going through it in a paisley pattern something she knew Aesha absolutely adored.

"How about this one Aesha?"

A gasp escaped the shorter girl's mouth as she looked at it in awe which made Tarya want to puff her chest in her pride.

"This is absolutely gorgeous! Yes, I'm getting this one."

They both giggled in their excitement before Tarya handed the vendor a gold dragon for the exquisitely expensive fabrics. Aesha's eyebrows raise in her surprise at the sight of the gold coin before turning narrowed questioned towards the taller woman. To which she received an amused smirk as a response.

"I'll tell you later when we get back."

That seemed to satisfy her for now before they were handed the _entire rolls_ of fabric which had been the equivalent of a gold dragon. To say they had enough was an understatement. They had spent another hour gathering some trinkets and foods to eat later before heading back towards the brothel. Once they were in the safety of her rooms, Aesha finally expressed her curiosity by leveling a playful glare at the taller red-haired woman pouting just as playfully.

"Just how did you get that gold dragon missy? You know that money is hard to come by for the servants. So, who gave you that coin?"

A blush much have appeared on her face because of how much her face was heating up. She fought the impending smile that was making it's way to her face when she thought of the man who left those five gold coins as a tip for her.

"It was Sandor Clegane Aesha."

"Wait, what?! The _Hound_ gave you that gold? When, where, why, and how?"

Tarya giggled as her friend sat down on the bed beside her enthusiastically and smiled widely as she thought about the gruff, rough, and tough man from the night before. Or was it the night before last?

"It was last night when you came to call me downstairs. About an hour in, I was exhausted and he pretty much demanded that I sit down and rest. I did for at least five minutes before getting back to work. By the end of the night, he left a note and five gold dragons behind. As for why he did it, I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

Tarya bit her lip in her nervousness and self-doubt before letting out a sigh to help calm her racing heartbeat. Aesha gently took her friend's hands into her own and smiled warmly but most importantly it was _genuinely_ warm.

"I have had men take interest in me in the past Tarya. Even the big meanies, hehe, but I think he's taken a liking to you."

"What I don't understand is how he finds me appealing? I got the body of a whore and the face of a highborn! Every man's fucking wet dream come to life yet none of them _want me_!"

Tarya didn't me to sound vain on her part, but it was true. All she wanted was to be loved for who she was as a person rather than her looks. It has always been that way ever since she was old enough to be courted properly. Aesha knew of this too, and it no doubt hurt her friend to say such things about herself.

"I-I'm sorry Aesha, but I …"

"I know dear. I don't blame you. I feel the same way from time-to-time. Men are so bullheaded they don't know their cocks from their hearts most of the time."

A giggle escaped their mouths as Tarya gathered her composure as her friend spoke up again.

"But you shouldn't doubt yourself so much Tarya. You are a very beautiful woman. Inside and out. I'm pretty sure the Queen herself would grow sickly green with envy if she laid eyes on you."

This got an unsure and sheepish grin out of Tarya as a nasty blush made it's way to her cheeks and stayed there for quite a while. Aesha gave the younger girl an encouraging smile and pulled her into a characteristically gentle hug.

"Give him a chance is all I can say to you, dear. He might have seen something that you can't see yourself just yet."

Sandor was _not_ having a good day _again._ It was one of the bad days again. He had come across Joffrey holding another kitchen knife to his younger siblings with rage written all over his face. It was then and there that enough was enough. He harshly grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck knowing that an angry snarl was on his face the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly in his anger.

"You two go to your uncles. I'll deal with the little shite."

The younger children nodded eagerly and thankfully in their innocence and fright before scuttling away to where Jaime and Tyrion might be. Sandor saw as the nearly ten-year-old boy looked upon him in such shock and fright it was a wonder that he didn't piss himself. Those Lannister green eyes of his were alit with pure, unadulterated fear. _"Good. He needs to feel it. It might do him some good for once."_ Sandor scoffed and then placed the boy on the ground but kept a hold of him as they moved towards the throne room. The boy was shaking all over by the time Sandor forcefully opened the doors in his anger and saw that Robert sitting on the throne drinking the day away as per usual. However, today will be very different.

"Your Grace."

Robert quickly sobered as he turns to the sight of the Hound dragging Joffrey in by the scruff of his neck. Shock and disbelief ran through his body at the sight because this never happened before. To his knowledge at least.

"I have told Cersei time and time again that this brat needed a firm hand to him. However, she has done nothing to reign in your son's madness."

"What has he done?"

"He attacked Myrcella and Tommen with a butcher's knife from the kitchens … again."

"What?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY AGAIN?! HAS THIS HAPPENED MORE THAN ONCE?!"

"Aye, Your Grace. This has been the fourth time in the last month."

The sight of the little shite trembling at the sight of his furious father was almost enough to have him beg for mercy. Robert was absolutely devilish and stubbornly resolute in his anger. Sandor knew this all too well from his time fighting alongside him during the Rebellion almost 11 years ago.

"I'll deal with Cersei later. I'm far too angry to not kill the boy for trying to harm his younger siblings. I will NOT have another Mad King on this throne! Do you hear me Joffrey?! You will straighten yourself or I will do it for you!"

Sandor didn't even feel sympathy seeing the brat simpering looking just about to cry as he nodded vigorously.

"Y-yes f-father. I h-hear you."

Robert turned his attention to Sandor looking at him in a raging, yet defeated manner as his meaty hands clenched tightly enough to cause the knuckles to be white.

"You know the boy better than I do. Deal with him how you see fit since you're the one who found him."

He nodded in acknowledgment before taking the boy to his rooms partially ignoring his quiet sobs and whimpers. It was then that his anger had partially diminished that he felt a tiny bit of sympathy for the boy. His own father acted the same way dismissing anything to do with him while covering up any source of misfortune that happened at Clegane's Keep. All just to make sure that Gregor got the knighthood that would have hopefully boosted their reputation. It had done no such thing and it only served to tear their household apart at the seems. This boy may have been showing early signs of madness but he'll be damned if Sandor lets him become another Aerys II Targaryen or another Gregor Clegane.

Just as they reached the entrance to the boy's chambers, Sandor turned to the boy and leveled with a very serious look in his stormy gray eyes. He needed to be blunt with Joffrey or else he would not get what is being said to him.

"Look at me." The nearly 10-year-old boy looked at him looking so devastated and so fearful that it had almost shaken him to the core. However, he didn't let it get to him all that much. Not right now. "No matter how cruelly you act towards others it will _NOT_ gain the approval of your father. Stop listening to the twisted shite your cunt mother spouts out at you. It will get you nowhere but to an early grave."

The completely lost look on Joffrey's face was enough to do him in just a little bit, but not enough to give in whatsoever. He needs to hear this.

"Change your ways Joffrey. Before you end up dead because of your pursuit of gaining approval from others. You must get a hold of yourself in order for others to follow you."

"I don't want to be Crown Prince."

Sandor blinked owlishly and looked at the boy in front of him. Seeing the genuine honestly in his Lannister green eyes was enough to feel bemusement.

"I don't want it. It's too much pressure. And I know that I'm not the best person for the job. I act the way I do in order to force Father's hand to replace me with Tommen or one of his elder bastard sons."

 _"_ _The crafty little shite!"_ Sandor couldn't help but feel uneasy and how amazed at how well Joffrey had fooled him and the entire Royal Court. He saw the open honesty in the boy's eyes and with how well he could sniff out a lie, he knew that the boy wasn't lying whatsoever.

"If you don't want the title than ask your father to replace you with one of your brothers on your name-day. That way he wouldn't be able to say no. Neither can your mother."

The hope that appeared on his face was enough for him to shuffle on his feet slightly at the intensity of it. He then made sure to tell the boy to apologize to Tommen and Myrcella at dinner for his actions towards him. To which the boy somewhat reluctantly nodded and entered his rooms without a second thought.

Sandor didn't know what to think about Joffrey and his newfound behavior. He really didn't. One minute the boy is acting like he's on the verge of madness, and the next he says that it was all a farce. It was all so disorientating that he couldn't make sense of it. It must have been what Robert had told the boy just minutes before now. His words must have struck a kind of fear that Joffrey hadn't experienced before and made him find that switch inside him.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he made his way towards Littlefinger's brothel. He needed wine and lots of it. He needed to get fucking drunk if he wanted to forget what had happened for the rest of the day. He also _needed_ to go and see _her_. That mysterious red-haired girl that he didn't even learn the name of. _"If I don't do anything else tonight, I_ will _get her name."_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Here's another chapter for you to read!**

 **This is mostly just a filler chapter that provides more clarity, or at least I would like to think so, on both Tarya and Sandor's inner thoughts and emotions. I know that Tarya lately has seemed a little similar to Sansa in terms of temperament, but this is mainly because of her trying to cope with the environment she's in even after she's been in it for five years. Honestly, I don't see anyone getting used to working in a brothel for any length of time.**

 **Also, at the moment Tarya is about 21 years old and since this is a little over three years before the canon timeline, and because I'm using Rory McCann portrayal of Sandor ... I think I'm gonna make Sandor around 32 years old as of right now. So, he would be about 35 by the time the show started and about the same age as Ned Stark, maybe a bit younger.**

 **Also, if you guys are wondering, I chose Aesha to be portrayed by Hayley Hasselhoff. Yes, as in David Hasselhoff's daughter. It was purely accidental at first before I made it official. Also, I'm seriously considering putting with Tyrion, but I'm not 100% sure either. Do you guys mind helping me out a little bit on it? OH! Before I forget, Aesha is only a few months older than Tarya, but is still 21 too. Hmm, okay I think I'm done for now.**

 **I sure hope you all enjoy reading this next chapter of _Touchable Flames_ :D!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter III**_

It was yet another night at the brothel for most of the women. However, Tarya had been dismissed from her duties for the night while Aesha had taken up her shift. She was so thankful for a friend like her in this awful place. Especially one as genuine and bubbly as she is.

The thought brought a smile to her face as she weaved the needle and thread through the fabric she had bought the day before. It had been two days since she had last seen _him_ and while he said that he wasn't sure on when he'd come back, it made her somewhat anxious. She couldn't explain the giddiness in her as she finished off a hem of the dress and then added a layer of sheer Myrish silk and lace to it. The same materials were used for the sleeves and she was very proud of her work. Though she would rather be reading or writing right now than sewing, she couldn't deny the results of her efforts.

There was a knock at her door causing her to accidentally prick herself with her needle. The yelp of surprise and pain was enough to get an angry curse out of her.

"Fuck that hurts! Who is it?"

"OH MY! Are you alright Tarya!?"

"I am now, Aesha. One moment please!"

She stuck the needle into the stitched area she was working on and placed her finger into her mouth before opening the door to see her shorter, and much plumper, friend.

"You pricked yourself again didn't you?"

"Mhm, you startled me. I was working on my dress."

"Again? Tarya, the tournament isn't for another four days."

"I'm not going to wear it then. I'm saving it for something else."

"Ohhhh, I see. Hehe. Speaking of which, Sir Clegane is here asking for you, sweetie. Do I send him up?"

"Oh! W-well, I suppose I'll go downstairs and meet him there. I just gotta clean up a bit."

Aesha nodded and smiled cheerily before skipping back downstairs in a burst of energy. It always amazed her at how Aesha can be so joyful even in conditions such as this. A giggle escaped her lips at the thought before she started to clean up her sewing supplies and put the mannequin holding her dress into her large wardrobe. Tarya huffed in annoyance at the state of her room. The bed was unmade and her vanity was cluttered while her table was littered with her books. A sigh escaped her mouth as she simply started to make up the bed. It wasn't perfect, but at least it was something. She was only going to mess it up when she gets back to bed anyway.

A knock sounded at her door and Tarya let out a deep breath before letting her thick curly hair fall from the messy updo she had it in. She combed through it using her fingers before heading out the door making her way down the stairs.

It was a typical night where almost all of the occupants were men and the women were the whores who lived and worked here in the brothel. Loud, rowdy, and full of debauchery. Tarya sighed and rolled her eyes before looking around trying to find the hulking man that was Sandor Clegane. Aesha said he was here and she definitely wasn't one to lie either. She stayed away from the crowds as much as possible not wanting to deal with them any more than necessary.

A rough yet _gentle_ grip grabbed her arm startling the living dickens out of her and she looked up to see Ser Clegane looking at her with those stormy gray eyes of his. There was a twitch of his lips that showed hints of his hidden amusement before he _gently_ guided her towards the table he used the night before last. No one dared go in that direction seemingly afraid of how the large man would react to such an intrusion.

Tarya followed him willingly and with little resistance due to many aspects. His mere presence made her safe and gave her a sense of calming security that was almost painful to feel. Her anxiety to leave the crowds of people and avoid the wandering drunken hands reaching for her arse and breasts. And also because she truly wanted his company for the night and was very curious about this soldier. This _man_ that everyone treated with disrespect and degradation as though he was nothing but a beast. Though this curiosity is very dangerous and she must walk the fine line. King's Landing is nothing but a nest of vipers ready to strike and spread its poison at the sight of anything pure and honest.

They both sat down without a word in between them with a grunt from him and a sigh of relief from her as she relaxed. His intense eyes met her own dark green with an inquiring expression in their depths. She even saw traces of surprise and confusion as well, but the most visible one was a bit hard for her to decipher.

"It's nice to see you again m'lord."

"Fucking- … don't call me that. No sirs, no 'my lords', and most certainly don't call me a fucking knight either. I spit and piss on those vows."

Tarya had to blink owlishly as she processed all of that and looked at him both curiously and confused. She took in the tense and tightened muscles of his jaw, shoulders, and arms as he gripped his tankard in a vice grip. He was _pissed_. There was no other word for it other than _pissed._ She gulped and rubbed her fingers together in slight nervousness.

"If you don't want to be called that, then what would you like me to call you by?"

He looked at her as she looked at him with what she could only describe as an openly honest expression. Or at least, she had thought so, but couldn't say for sure if it was or not. However, by what she could observe from his calming state, it seemed to have worked just a bit. He exhaled deeply before looking at her with that intense look again. Why so intensely? She didn't know for sure. All that Tarya knew was that it made her heart race and left butterflies in her stomach while warming her up from the inside out.

" _No! Stop it! It's only lust. Nothing more, nothing less … then why does it feel like I'm lying to myself?"_ She sighed mentally and gulped as she kept looking him straight in his face. Tarya honestly couldn't see what the fuss was about. It was very well tended to and while there was scarring, it wasn't as horrendous as most would make it out to be. It was noticeable, yes, but not enough to say that the scarring was ugly. These people were so vain it was a wonder how they managed to live here without biting each other's heads off.

Tarya noted his prolonged silence and tilted her head in curiosity. Why was he not speaking? Was there something on her face that she forgot to clean?

"Just call me Hound or … Sandor."

She practically felt herself beam a bit at the sound of his voice, and then blushed modestly, before nodding as she smiled.

"I don't think you would want a reminder of your day job. So, Sandor, it is then."

A refill of his tankard and one was placed in front of her with a wink and a teasingly mischievous smirk from Aesha. This got her friend a playful glare from Tarya and a giggle out of her own mouth as she skipped away before she was summoned over to wait on someone else.

"Must have had too many sweets."

"I wish that it was that but she's like that all the time."

"A friend of yours?"

"My best and only friend. She's the only one who is entirely genuine and has been with me through thick and thin."

"One such as that is extremely hard to come by. Hold onto her or you'll lose her faster than a horse would shit."

"Yes, I know, but thank you regardless." Tarya giggled at the comparison and smiled as she turned her gaze to her tankard, taking a small sip of the chilled raspberry tea in it. She absolutely _loved_ raspberries. They were her favorites along with grapes, peaches, and pears along with the occasional orange or two. Sweet, crisp, and fresh. That, and she loved the taste and texture too.

A look of curiosity and interest rested on her face as she tilted her head to further convey it.

"What about you?"

A mixture between a scoff and a disbelieving laugh escaped his mouth as he shook his head. This did nothing but further entice her sense of curiosity and intrigue of this mystery man sitting across from her. His gloved fingers lightly brushed over the hair that served in covering some of the scarrings on the right side of his face. This left a pained sensation in her chest at the nonverbal message. Most were aversive due to his burn scars. This brought a sense of innate empathy out of her as it usually did.

Tarya couldn't help that her hand laid itself on top of the hand balled up into a fist on the table. This made him flinch a bit causing her to make her grip a bit more firm. She hoped that this was enough. Anything beyond this was considered inappropriate to society for a man and a woman who were not married or at the very least courting each other.

"I doubt that, besides you and your friend there are very, _very_ few people who could handle staring at my ugly mug all damn day."

Her dark green eyes watched as he took a generous gulp of his Dornish red before setting it down on the table while squeezing her hand at the same time. Hearing him degrade himself in front of her made her as hot as the fire in her red hair and as angry too. She clenched her jaw in order to control her anger before saying exactly what she was thinking.

"Then they should go look at themselves in the looking glasses because _they_ are the ugly ones. Fuck them and their vanity."

His large hand slowly lowered his tankard as a look of astonishment overcame his features. Sandor sure as hell wasn't expecting this sort of response. In fact, he was expecting her to agree and say that he was indeed ugly. Not say the total opposite. He could see that she was completely serious and honest about what was said. That is what surprised him that most.

Sandor had to be careful. Especially in a place like this. Yet he couldn't bring himself to stay away from her either. He had heard the butterball blonde girl call her by Tarya. A very strange name, very … unique. From her looks alone, Sandor would have thought her to be a Lannister if it weren't for her red hair. However, from what he had gathered about how she held herself, she's the total opposite in that alone.

He doesn't know if he should be baffled or relieved. For as long as he had been with the Lannisters (just the thought of them boils his blood), it had made him extremely cautious around this girl. He supposed that his demeanor had made her incredibly nervous, but not afraid. Not yet at least. Sandor was just waiting for her to come to her senses and become afraid of him, It was inevitable that she did.

"Are we going to sit in silence and have you stare at me like I'm a loon or are we going to talk like people?"

Ah, there's that tongue that he saw his first night here. Normally, it would have irritated him to hear it, especially if it came from the Imp, but with her teasing tones, it only served to amuse him. To think this timid girl had turned into this semi-confident woman. He supposed it was because of the environment of the brothel that had made her shrink into herself as a form of detachment.

Despite what others may think of him being a simple killing machine, and he was in a way, he was smart in his own way. 'Street-smart' is what they call it. He was enough of 'book-smart' to write and read, but that was the extent of it. Most who underestimate tend to die shortly afterward anyway.

Those thoughts were quickly discarded for now as he looked at her in amusement.

"What's there to talk about? We both know that King's Landing is not for those of blunt, honest words rather than the fancy chirping they spew out."

"We're talking right now, aren't we?"

He barked out a soft laugh before nodding in agreement.

"Aye, that we are. What do they call you girl?"

"Tarya. Tarya Rivers."

Rivers. So, it seems she was from the Riverlands then. That would explain some bit about her red hair and physical appearances. The only physical Lannister features he could see was her cheekbones, green eyes, and the arch of her brows. Everything else must have come from her father's side of the family.

"Riverlands then. Far from home aren't you?"

"Not far enough. My mother and I weren't on the best of terms growing up and it only got worse as I got older."

Sandor could relate to that all too well. Especially when it came to his father favoring his cunt, dumb fuck of a brother, Gregor, over telling the truth about how he had gotten his scars. While the man was still his father, and while he hated Gregor for killing him, among many other things, Sandor was fucking glad that the cowardly cunt was dead. His mother, being a woman of the North, was not used to the customs of the South even after so long. Sandor loved her very much along with his little sister, Alysa, and they were the only ones who he considered his true family. And his godsforsaken _brother_ stripped their lives away as if it were as easy as breathing.

"It's also the reason I'm in this fucking shithole."

Seeing her nose scrunch in disgust and hearing her calm voice take on an angry tone somehow made him even more curious than before. He can only imagine what happened in her time here to break the veil of ignorance that was there when she arrived here if she still had it. She was still young versus himself and would know the world a lot less than he did. So, he just stayed silent and heard her out to gauge out just how much she actually knew. If she started spewing out things about knights and songs, he was leaving.

"My mother didn't know what to do with a 16 name-days old girl who couldn't get the stable-boy to be interested in her. So, she took me here to the tourney five years ago and that's when we were approached by _Lord_ Baelish."

She sneered so expressively it was like seeing a lioness growling in her anger. Sandor could definitely see the Lannister in her then.

"He saw my red hair and instantly _asked_ – more like demanded – that I could be one of the serving girls here. My mother couldn't refuse and pretty much shoved me on to the rat."

Sandor scoffed in his amusement and couldn't help but feel a bit relieved to see that this girl – no woman – was not like the rest.

"Why are you telling me this? You know that I work for the Crown."

"As the prince's sworn shield, yes. I know. I didn't recognize you at first because of being half-asleep, but I do know who you are."

"Still doesn't answer my question."

"For some reason, I feel safe enough around you to tell you that. Plus you did ask to begin with. I merely gave you a bit more than you asked for."

There was that Lannister wit and cunning that was usually associated with the Imp and Lord Tywin. Only with her, she meant no harm from it and was not mocking him. She was calm and relaxed. Unguarded by the looks of it. This would not do her any good around him or the Lannisters. They _will_ tear her apart. Especially Cersei. That cunt doesn't know how to distinguish authenticity from deception half the time anyway, but that also makes her dangerous if the Imp or Tywin wasn't there to rein her in.

Despite all of those Lannister qualities, there is still the mystery behind that red hair of hers and her demeanor. If he didn't know any better, Sandor would have thought she was a Tully. She might be too, but there's also others in the Riverlands that may have fathered her as well.

"Be careful about who you trust here. This is no place to go spilling your guts."

"You don't think I know that? Have been here for five years. I know that there's murderers, thieves, and rapers at every corner in this section of the city. The city guards are shit as it is and it doesn't make me feel safer to be here but I don't have a choice. It's either live here in this fucking brothel as a serving girl or be found dead on the streets of Flea Bottom."

He now sees what was hidden underneath that calm tranquility. A turbulent bundle of fear and anxiety built up inside of her. With nowhere to go without having the possibility of being found dead or disfigured. This is the safest place she could be at the moment unless she was in the Red Keep and it was no better than Flea Bottom. The only difference was that the peasants lived in Flea Bottom while the nobility and army lived in the Keep.

The words of that blonde girl came to mind as he saw how she took another sip of whatever it is she was drinking.

"Tarya doesn't belong in a place like this. And she's the most sought out serving girl out of the ten that work here. Sooner or later, Baelish is going to make her a whore and I know how much she intrigues you. Please, if you're able, make sure she's taken care of and that no one else gets to her before you do."

He replayed those words over and over again amazed and impressed at how this girl, Tarya, is well looked after by her friend. Sandor, despite his caution, felt the same way with Tarya. He cursed his dog-like tendencies towards those who caught his interest. However, he couldn't help it either. She hadn't treated him with disdain or indifference. No, she was kind, patient, and knew when to talk and not to questions either. Even if she wasn't above not giving her opinion on the matter either.

"Can't say you'll ever get out of this place, little cub, but know that you've got people who look after you in this shithole."

The confused yet curious look that appeared on her face at the nickname he gave her. 'Little cub', because he was now sure that she had Lannister in her. As for the other half, that was up for debate. However, Sandor can honestly say that he would do his damnedest to make sure she stayed out of sight of the other Lannisters for as long as he possibly can. The gods, if there were any to begin with, only know what would happen if a sniff of this reached Tywin.

He supposed that he had begrudgingly found his new "master" outside of the royal family. No, not "master". Tarya was not one nor did she have it in her to act that way from what he could tell as of right now. She was his reason for these newfound instincts in him, these much deeper and intense instincts. Ones that wanted to do all sorts of … lustful and possessive things to her. Ones that he will ignore for as long as possible.

"'Little cub'? Hehe, that's a new one. Thank you for lending an ear, Sandor."

The way she said his name was making his own self-control waver just a tad before he gave a grunt as a response and took a drink of his wine to help quell the urges in him. The way she smiled was _not_ helping either.

" _Warrior give me the strength to not fuck this up, and the Crone to give me the foresight if it's bound to happen."_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's another chapter for you to enjoy and read :D!**

 **Alright, so this chapter starts out with Sandor's POV with some depth into his thoughts and feelings before going towards Tarya's POV towards the second half of the chapter. Also, BIG THING IS REVEALED IN THIS CHAPTER! You guys finally get to know just who Tarya's biological father is and also how she came to know it as well as some information on her heritage through her mother's side of the family. Just know that Tarya is not 100% certain that her father is who he is, but it is a HUGE possibility too. However, we as the audience know that's actually true ... well hopefully anyways XP.**

 **Oh! There is also some moments in here that are intense such as Tarya seeing Gregor for the first time ever, and also the jousting match between Sandor and Jaime towards the end. And we find out that Aesha has a crush on Tyrion XD.**

 **Now, that's out of the way, I hope you guys enjoy reading this next chapter of _Touchable Flames_ :D!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter IV_**

It was just another day in the Red Keep surrounded by the majority of the Royal Court and the Lannister Army. It was _sickening_.

Sandor silently sneered at the sight of the so-called knights running around following whatever moral code and order they had on hand. He hated knights. Absolutely hated them, even more so than the cunning shit that was the Prince.

More and more each day, Joffrey had proven that he indeed didn't want the title of Crown Prince. He did whatever he could to act the shit that he was acting to be and not get that title. The tourney was within the hour and Joffrey was happy for it was also his 10th name-day.

Sandor knew that Joffrey was going to do as he suggested last week when he got into trouble _again._ The boy was just that desperate.

A deep breath escaped his mouth as he stood in his designated tent and worked on getting his armor on. He couldn't help but wonder if _she_ was going to be here. Ever since he had learned her name he couldn't get her out of his head. It was like that before, but now it was near impossible. What made her so fucking special? _"Right. She gave you a wide toothy smile of all things. Stupid, old dog that you were. She probably enjoys old dogs. Tch, what a fucking joke."_

A scoff escaped as he buckled his sword belt on with a little more force than necessary in his self-mockery. Despite all of his scorn, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of hope that she might actually enjoy being around him. Why? He had no fucking clue.

Her red hair, lightly tanned skin, her dark green eyes, and her luscious, plump curves drew him in like a moth to a flame. However, it was the way she carried herself that made it seem all the more tangible. She was humble, but also not above telling those to fuck off if they do something wrong. She quick with her tongue, but knew when to keep it from moving too. She was a whole different kind of Lannister bastard.

Another scoff made it's way out, but this time in amusement. _"Even if she is only half Lannister, she's still a bastard._ " Tarya had admitted to it the other night when he asked about it. Her mother was Lynora Hill, Jason Lannister's bastard, Tywin's uncle and his late wife's father. Which means that Tarya was more connected to the Lannisters more than most bastards would be under normal circumstances. She had also said that while she had no clue of who her father was. However, Tarya had suspicions that it might have been the Blackfish because she had heard her mother express it more than once that she was just like him as a child.

That came as a shocker. Brynden "Blackfish" Tully was known to hold his duty as a knight and family above anything else. This also included indulging in the ways of the flesh. However, if he was indeed her father, it would have made the most sense. More sense than saying her father was another peasant or a minor knight searching to bolster his reputation by laying with a Lannister bastard.

Sandor hadn't met the Blackfish in person, but he did know the kind of person he was and the reputation he upheld as a warrior and knight. He could honestly say with a clear head that the Blackfish was the definition of a true knight right after Ser Barristan Selmy.

He checked his sword to see if it was sharp enough before sheathing it back in its scabbard. A few deep breaths were taken before exited out of his tent. Looking around to see all kinds of knights from all over was enough to bring him a sense of satisfaction and disgust. Satisfaction that he would have a slightly wider selection to fight, and disgust because that most of them are green-boys.

His ears picked up on a higher-pitched voice coming his way. He couldn't determine if it was a young boy or a woman. It drew closer as he slowed down a little bit in his curiosity.

"Ser Clegane! Wait!"

 _"_ _Wait, is that …?"_ He stopped and turned around to see Tarya running towards him. She wore a white linen dress with a spring green layer over it, having a brown leather corset fitted around her waist not too tightly or too loosely either. He gulped at the delicious sight and had to ignore that he had gotten hard just to focus on her face. If it was possible, he was more in awe of her beauty as her curls ran down her back in a loose fashion trailing behind her as she ran.

She too ended up stopping either oblivious to or ignoring the wide-eyed, lustful stares coming from the other men slightly winded from running. He found himself glaring at the _boys_ from staring at _his_ little cub. He heard a giggle coming from her and saw that dangerously genuine smile on her beautiful face.

"It's alright Sandor. They won't bother me since I have my big, bad hound to protect me."

He couldn't help that his heart started racing at her confidence and trust in his skills as a protector. It also instilled a frightfully instant sense of manly pride in him too. He found himself nodding in agreement as he looked into those warm and gentle dark emerald eyes.

"Aye. Just as long as though they know not to mess my little cub around me."

Another giggle escaped as he found himself more at ease in her presence and also the smirk that appeared at the sight of the tiny blush on her cheeks. He couldn't tell you when they had started doing the teasing and calling each other by such names. It just happened and they went along with it right afterward.

He ignored the looks of the other knights staring at them before she seemed to remember something because she was digging into the hidden pockets of her skirts. Seeing her pulling out a golden handkerchief made him realize just what she was doing.

"Don't. I'm not a knight. Keep it."

She gave him just a stubborn-ass glare that she yanked it out the rest of the way revealing a golden handkerchief with a red lioness embroidered onto it. It was to show her bastard status but also show that she was a red-haired Lannister as well. Right under the red lioness was House Tully's words in blue, dark red, and black just big enough for him to read them alone. Family, Duty, Honor.

He had no words for why she did it and he must have expressed his shock because she had that smile on her face again. It was still there even while gently putting the handkerchief around his sword belt.

"You may not have taken the vows of a knight Sandor, but you're more of a knight to me than any of the others here. Especially my cousin Jaime. I have no idea why he's so special anyways. He may be a good swordsman, but he sure doesn't act like a true knight."

He chuckled at the comment and watched as she carefully finished it off with a proud smirk on her face before looking at him with those dark green eyes of hers. Her read curls fluttered in breeze further awing him in how this woman had chosen _him_ of all people to give her favor to.

"No matter if you win or lose, you're still my big, bad hound."

He had to bark a laugh at that and nodded as she smiled and made her way towards the stands where the other girl was, Aesha he thought her name was. Sandor knew that he was competing in every competition besides archery. Jousting and melee would be about it and lucky for him, he was skilled in both.

Tarya watched from where she sat with Aesha just before the tournament started as the knights were introduced to the crowd. Some of which she knew, the others not so much. The only one she paid most of her attention to was Sandor and honestly, Aesha was distracting her in her excitement.

"Oh, oh! Tarya! Look, there's Ser Jaime! And look, there's his brother Lord Tyrion!"

Tarya had no idea what was Aesha's fascination with either Lannister brothers, but she had to admit that her cousins were very attractive men. She smiled as Aesha giggled in her excitement to see Ser Jaime in his golden armor riding his white gelding. However, the true extent of her fascinations for them showed when she saw the dwarvish Lannister brother.

Aesha always had strange taste in men, but they were those of the intellectual kind. With both of them together in the form of Lord Tyrion Lannister, well there was bound to be more than just fascination. Tarya had to smile at her friend's obvious blush on her pale cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes when she saw the youngest of the Lannister brothers. The red-haired woman had to wonder if she looked the same way when she was around Sandor.

"You know if you talked to Lord Tyrion …"

Aesha looked at her with widened blue-gray eyes full of hope and nervousness at the prospect of it. Tarya knew then and there that Aesha most definitely had genuine feelings for the dwarf lord just as she did with everything else she does. She had never seen her so flustered and stricken with a man before. Maybe this will definitely be a good thing too, but both of them knew not to get their hopes that high either.

"I-I'll do it after the tournament, but only if he isn't that busy with one of the women at the brothel afterward."

Tarya nodded and smiled encouragingly at her plumper, butterball of a friend just before she turned her attention towards the events of the tournament. First came the archery contest which she paid no attention to it because it was rather boring, to be honest. The came the melee event. Sandor was in it along with many others and he won his matches by a landslide. She was mesmerized by his brutal, agile, yet precise strikes and fighting style that reminded her of a hound using a lion's tactics against it. Then the last event of the day came with the honor of the crowning a lady to be of Love and Beauty: the jousting matches.

Two knights of the Vale and Reach went against each other with the Reach Knight coming out on top. To her surprise, it was Ser Loras Tyrell, Lord Renly's paramour. She only knew about it because Sandor had told her about it when she asked. He only knew because he had the unfortunate experience of walking by their chambers one night hearing them both in there from behind the closed doors.

"No one cares about how they act or say around dogs." Is what he told her when she expressed her confusion about it. Honestly, it didn't bother her all that much that two men found companionship with each other because of the nastier things she has seen working in the brothel. Much, much nastier things.

She and Aesha clapped along with the crowd mostly for Ser Loras's success and also support for Lord Renly as well. Tarya paled drastically in her fright in seeing the most massive man she had ever seen in her life. She started shaking as she froze barely hearing Aesha express her concern before she felt her grip tighten on her arm and shoulder in her fright as well.

"T-That's Gregor Clegane. Sandor's brother. Oh, gods."

Tarya watched in frozen shock as they paired the Mountain up with a man from the Stormlands and watched as he ran his lance through the other man's chest plate. That kind of blow would have effectively killed him if he had internal bleeding. Tarya had to hold in a scream as the Mountain then turned his gaze towards her. So cold, lifeless, and so full of evil that he was no more than a demon in human flesh. A soft whimper escaped her mouth as he turned away from her and minded his own business.

She eventually calmed down by the time that Sandor made his way towards the field on his own huge destrier, black Shire warhorse. He seemed to be as temperamental as his master, but she could see the gentleness in the large animal as well. Tarya watched with an attentive gaze as she saw that Sandor had been put against Ser Jaime. Aesha was also on the edge of her seat watching as Lord Tyrion bet that his brother would unseat Sandor. Her and Aesha were the closest to his seat on the right side of the dais. So, she couldn't help but rise to it using the gold dragons that Sandor had lent her the past few days.

"How much do you wager my Lord?"

To see the shocked and surprised look on his face was enough to almost bring an amused smirk on her face.

"My, my such beautiful ladies that you are. Who are you betting for my lady?"

Tarya couldn't help but notice that his eyes strayed towards Aesha for a few moments more than what was normal before meeting her gaze again. This brought a small smile on her face as she met Lord Tyrion's light green gaze as well.

"I would like to place 50 dragons for Sandor Clegane to unseat your brother my Lord."

"50 dragons?! And where did you acquire this money, my lady?"

"It doesn't matter where it came from only that I'm using it. Now, do we have a bet, my Lord?"

To see the impressed and still shocked expression on Lord Tyrion's face was highly amusing and instilled a pride in her. He gave a smirk of his own and raised his golden goblet full of wine in his hands in agreement just as the joust started. Tarya got her purse ready just in case and watched with rapt attention as both men charged at each other with fierceness.

It was intimidating yet enticing to see such men who were as different as night and day go against each other. Their lances collided with each other causing them to splinter into a multitude of smaller pieces. The squires gave them a fresh lance just before they went at each other again. This time they charged with determination in their stances. She knew that Sandor wanted to unseat Jaime and she hoped that he would accomplish his goal as well. This time she was brought to her feet as well as many others when Ser Jaime's lance collided with Sandor's shield causing him to stumble a bit. She held her breath as he right himself and she swore that she could hear him growl in his frustration from where she was. The third and final time they charged was when she let out a breath of relief. Sandor moved his lance in a way that collided with Ser Jaime's chest plate with such force that it unseated the knight easily. This made him the winner of the tournament.

Tarya along many of the spectators clapped in their excitement for such an incredible match. She smiled widely and giggled as Lord Tyrion sighed as he held out a purse holding the 50 dragons they had bet on. A shake of her head was given to the Lord before she gave him a pointed look.

"You can keep it my Lord. Use it to pay for a night a special lady tonight and you can consider your debt repaid."

Aesha looked at her in such shock that she couldn't say a word and blushed prettily as Lord Tyrion glanced at her quite a few times. Tarya nodded in confirmation to which the little man nodded with a confident look on his face. She would have sat down if it wasn't for the fact that Sandor riding towards her holding that crown. Her blushing face must have said it all because Aesha was giggling and nudging her playfully. Even on his horse and with her on the stands, they were eye-level with each other. His stormy gray with her dark emerald as he placed the crown on her head gently getting a massive blush from her and the cheers of the crowd. None were more vocal than the King and Aesha though.

"It seems as though the Hound has finally found his bitch! Haha! Let there be a feast tonight!"

Tarya glared heatedly at the King for calling her a bitch getting an amused chuckle out of Sandor as he rode away before Aesha intervened.

"Now you can wear the dress you've been working on!"

Tarya giggled and nodded in agreement as her blush was still prominent on her face. She couldn't help but wonder, why?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Long time no sees, huh?**

 **Here's the chapter we've all been waiting for! I must admit that there isn't as much Sandor/Tarya action as I would like there to be, but this story is still in it's starting chapters, so hopefully as it progresses more action between them will happen.**

 **Okay, so there is more of Tarya's POV than there is Sandor's in this chapter and a lot is going in here too. Much more than usual actually. Petyr "Littlefucker" Baelish (sorry I just _had_ to do that XD) appears in this chapter, Tarya has a gift for Joffrey, she spends time with Tyrion leaves him with a figurative bombshell, and ends up getting the attention of Cersei Lannister herself. Which is never a good thing to begin with. **

**I had wanted to add in Joffrey talking to Robert about wanting to renounce his claim to the Iron Throne and replacing him with one of his older bastard sons, but this chapter was already hitting the 12-page mark, so I left it where I did at the end. Don't worry I'm doing that in the next chapter and also go into more depth into Joffrey's reasons for doing what he wants to do.**

 **Anyways, now that's out of the way, I hope you all enjoy reading this next chapter of _Touchable Flames_ :D!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter V_**

Tarya didn't particularly like having this crown on her head. It was pretty but rather gaudy and a waste of good gold. Which could have been used to pay off some of the Crown's debt instead. She sighed as she left the crown on her head as she pulled the top half of her curls out of her face pinning it with a simple golden brooch-like hairpin. Her dress was completely finished and ready to be worn for the feast tonight. Hopefully, she won't draw any attention to herself since all the attention was supposed to be on the crown prince tonight. It was his name-day after all, and she hoped that the gift she made him was enough.

She wasn't supposed to since she was a bastard and a mere serving girl at a brothel. However, Tarya wanted to do something nice for her little cousin. She just hoped he would like it and not throw a fit. Her hands picked up the carved wooden toy of both a golden lion with Lannister green eyes as well as a black stag with Baratheon blue eyes. A smile was brought to her face happy with how articulated their joints were while moving them about testing them for the umpteenth time. With a nod of her head, she gently set them on the table amongst her books and sewing supplies. Her dark emerald eyes looked at the finished product of her dress gulping nervously hoping that it wasn't too fancy or elaborately done.

A modest neckline on a normal-sized lady would have been a low-cut neckline on her because of her overabundant bust. So, she made it what it seem modest on her showing a peek of her cleavage rather than most of it. The lavender fabric held the barely-noticeable golden flowery details with the jumping dogs all throughout. A sheer Myrish silk overlay on the skirt was there giving a peek to the skirt underneath as well as having the Myrish lace along the hem. The wide sleeves were made with the same fabrics as the overlay. Only they were bunched together with a thin hem of the lace giving her more motion of her arms and wrists.

Tarya remembered the fashions that most ladies would wear to court as she put the dress on her overly curvy and plump frame. She had the reassurance that they were more than likely going to wear much more elaborate coloring than she is. Possibly with jewels embedded in their dresses and an assortment of jewelry worth much more than the items made into her dress. She slipped on her baby-soft cotton stockings and ankle-high padded slippers, lacing them up like boots. Her fingers gently touched the soles to feel how worn they were and felt relieved that they weren't. She would hate to come back with blistered feet because of how bad her shoes were.

Her feet had her leaving the room locking the door behind her and a low chuckle came from her right. Her dark emerald eyes looked up fear gripping her heart as she saw Lord Baelish standing there with his eyes glinting wildly in his hidden surprise.

"M-My Lord. I w-wasn't expecting you- "

"Of course you weren't young Tarya."

The way he said her name, so slimy and so full of bittersweet poison, sent the bad kind of shivers up and down her spine violently.

"I'm well aware of where you are going tonight and I can't say that you are forbidden to go to your own honorary feast. Consider this … a 'night and day off'."

"But sir, who's going to take my shift tonight?"

"I would say that friend of yours. What's her name? Oh, yes, Aesha Waters."

"I apologize Lord Baelish, but Aesha has a previous engagement with Lord Tyrion tonight."

"Is that so? Well, then, who am I to deny Lord Tyrion of who he wants to spend his company with?"

 _"_ _Who are you, indeed."_ Tarya hadn't dared say anything after that. They both knew that Lord Tyrion was their highest paying customer. So, if he says he wants to spend the night with one of the girls, he will get his request fulfilled without question. Out of the men that came here on a regular basis, Tarya knew that Aesha was in one of _the safest_ hands in King's Landing. She knew that Tyrion never left here angry, unsatisfied, or his hands bloodied from having beaten one of the girls. He always made sure that each woman he laid with was taken care of and also unharmed. So, Tarya knew that Aesha was indeed safe and would come back much happier than usual.

Lord Baelish nodded in obvious dismissal to which she gave him a bow out of respect before running like the devil was at her heels. In a way, he was there, and Tarya hoped that he would _stay_ there. She ignored and evaded all the wandering hands as she made her way out the door of the brothel. Her feet hadn't even taken a few steps before a _very_ familiar hand gently took a hold of her arm.

"Fucking hells, little cub! You shouldn't be out here without a damn cloak!"

Her widened dark emerald eyes looked into the blazing stormy gray of Sandor's seeing the hidden concern in their depths. She blushed and smiled sheepishly just as he sighed in exasperation before rolling his eyes at her expression.

"You're a grown woman and you can't even remember to get a bloody cloak. Go back inside and get one and fucking do it quickly."

"Alright, alright, I'm going."

She giggled darting back inside getting a cloak and the forgotten toys on the table in her haste placing them in wrapped packing she had set to the side as well. Once she had everything and was back outside, Sandor gently took her arm again and placed her on his massive black horse. Her curiosity overtook her senses as well as her overly active nerves as she looked at the black beauty.

"His name's Stranger. Be glad he likes you or he would've maimed you."

"Well, at least he has a very fitting name."

She felt Sandor snort in his amusement as he got behind her. This caused her to blush as he held her in place by wrapping an arm around her waist as he grabbed the reins of Stranger's bridle. She held the package close to her bosom as they rode towards the Keep surprisingly smoothly with just a few rough bumps here and there. Tarya could tell that Stranger was taking extra care towards his extra passenger and she thought it was kind of sweet. She gently ran her fingers through his black mane and smiled a bit at the snort he gave.

Seeing the Red Keep for the very first time was both awe-inspiring and extremely _terrifying_. Tarya could feel Sandor's arm tightening ever-so-slightly and she was no dumbass _fool_ to believe that he was doing it just because he could. She could feel the protectiveness of the hold and the slight warning behind it too. The nonverbal way of saying "watch yourself or you'll get killed". She knew that kind of mindset all too well. Especially in this place. Her hand took a hold of his own and gave it an answering squeeze back knowing that he would get the message.

Indeed, he did. Sandor looked down towards Tarya, _his_ little cub, and saw those understanding and sharp dark green eyes looking back. She gave a nod and smiled reassuringly furthering cementing his confidence that she isn't as airheaded as innocent and kind as she is. He could only hope that the Lannister's and the Royal court don't tear her apart. Hope that the shit dwarf didn't say a fucking word of her to _anyone_. He saw and heard their bet even more the wailing cheers of the crowd. He saw the calculating and inquisitive look the dwarf gave the little cub and can only hope he doesn't badger her at the feast. The youngest and littlest lion was too much like his father, intellectually, to not do such a thing.

The palaces let them slip through with wide-eyed stares at the beauty in front of him and it took all he had to not bash their heads in. She was ignoring them with such indifference and childlike obliviousness, that it helped soothe his rage just a bit. Once they reached the stables, He dismounted just before he helped the little cub down being careful of her skirts and balance. Sandor found that she was quite wobbly and a bit disoriented after getting off of Stranger's saddle. He didn't let go of her waist until she was okay.

"I'm good now. First time riding is all."

"You did pretty well considering."

"Heh, I would have done without the wobbliness, but I suppose so."

She chuckled before reaching over to grab the package she brought with her. Which made him curious as to what it is. A shy smile was brought to her face as she held it to her large and plump bosom unintentionally bringing attention to her cleavage.

"It's a present for Prince Joffrey. I know I'm not supposed to, but I figured it would be nice for him to have something homemade in the midst of the gold-bought items he'll no doubt be receiving."

His heart nearly expanded and ached at the same time at the act of goodness she had done. He should in his right mind reprimand her knowing that Joffrey will no doubt destroy it in his displeasure as well in ungratefulness. But he didn't have the heart to do such a thing seeing the hopeful and kind expression on her face. He just couldn't do it no matter how much his inner conscious was screaming at him to do it.

So, he simply nodded slowly and _gently_ grabbed her by the arm leading her into the large castle. Knowing these halls like the back of his hand, they were there in no time at all. Sandor gently took her cloak and held it on his arm as he opened the heavy doors. Cheers and bellows of drunken jubilance sounded in there ears causing him to scowl slightly in displeasure and her to flinch slightly at the abrupt noise.

"Now the feast can truly begin! Have at it!"

A sigh came from them both as she grabbed his outstretched elbow firmly and he watched as she gulped nervously starting at the royal dais. He knew that she would have to wait until it was time to give out gifts and knew that her nerves would be in shambles until she did. What her face didn't display, her eyes most certainly did. He looked towards the area where the Imp is at and saw that the little cub's friend, the little rabbit, Aesha, was with him. Laughing and exchanging jokes it seemed like. Made him curious for just a moment before his eyes swept out towards the crowd like he has always done. The Royal Court was here along with the Kingsguard and those who had attended the tournament.

He was wary of just about everyone here and from the way the little cub's hand was tightening around his arm, so was she. However, she kept that aloof yet kind expression on her face as they walked down the direct middle of the dining hall. Sandor was also aware of the whispers and expressions of disgust and bafflement directed towards them. Usually, he would pay them no mind is they were directed at someone else. However, this time it made him feel bitter and angry just as it usually did. Only there was that feeling of protectiveness as well as he found himself glaring at them all hatefully.

Tarya noticed what Sandor was doing and it warmed her knowing that he was looking out for her. Even in this nest of vipers and among the lion's den. The King couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself and the Queen was too busy drinking and sneering at everyone else. Tarya honestly couldn't see what was so special about Cersei that made her so beautiful. Yes there was the signature Lannister golden tresses, strong jawline, and green cat eyes. But that didn't matter when she was such an _ugly_ person and having such a _sour_ personality. Cersei was at least three times as small as her overall in her bust, and twice as well in her hips with her being so small and thin. What man would find _that_ attractive?

Tarya had to shake her thoughts knowing that her perspective of bodily beauty stemmed from the brothel's plump and curvy whores than the stick figures of the noble ladies. It was baffled her because of it and she didn't understand it at all. If she were a man, Tarya would have a woman Aesha's size as a wife over someone as small as Cersei in a heartbeat. There was nothing but sharp edges and angles at every corner and no roundness or softness to hold onto either.

She was brought to the present when Sandor had brought her closer to his side snarling at the man who tried to grab a hold of her. It scared the man out of his wits and the simpering fool was running with his tail in between his legs. Another reason why she hated those of nobility. They were worse than greenboy soldiers freshly drafted for war.

She gave Sandor a thankful smile and he gave a grunt with a gruff- "Pay attention cause that won't be the last time they grab you." It reminded her too much of the brothel's customers and how they're always trying to grope her in some shape, form or fashion. She sighed and frowned at the thought before perking up once she noticed that he was leading her over to Lord Tyrion's table. Aesha was there in her newly-made gown using the navy blue paisley fabric they had gotten earlier that week. It brought a smile to her face seeing her friend wearing a nice dress instead of the threadbare serving gowns that they were required to wear for work.

Her dark green eyes saw the wide smile on her friends as she perked up as well. Her cheeks rosy having just laughed at a joke that her cousin no doubt made.

"Go over to the little rabbit and Imp. You'll be safe with them. I'll be near the little shit."

She looked at him and saw how serious his stormy grey eyes were and nodded placating him somewhat, but not completely. Sandor gently placed beside Aesha despite telling her to go herself. She smiled at the show of protectiveness and smiled at the large man as he nodded curtly and left to go "guard" Joffrey.

"My, my. You sure do look lovely tonight my lady."

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion. I'm no lady though."

"Nonsense. Every woman should be named as such. Well, almost every woman."

Tarya saw the pointed look he shot his sister and understood the meaning behind it. The hatred between the two siblings was well-known and didn't need to be inquired about because of it.

"Well, Tyrion, neither of us are ladies. We're just serving girls is all."

"Serving girls? You most certainly didn't come half naked if that's what you meant."

Both girls had to laugh at the comment and Aesha had to clarify being the more social one out of the two.

"No, no! Not whore's, we're the flagon girls. Baelish didn't want us to be whores because we weren't 'of age' back when we started."

Tarya nodded in agreement though the thought of being a whore made her nauseated and sick. She and Aesha have seen too many men go in there over the years doing all sorts to the girls that it made them wary and afraid of what Baelish will subject them to. All of them, both the girls and a few of the boys there, are all under contract that once they are of 16 or 21 years that they were required to provide other services besides serving drinks and food. How and when it happened was their choice unless under orders from Lord Baelish to do it full-time.

"I would have never noticed. Now, I don't believe we've been acquainted yet."

"No, my lord. We haven't. At least introductory wise."

"Clever girl. Aesha here was telling me about you Tarya."

Tarya gave a mild glare towards her friend who was hiding a smirk behind her goblet at her expense.

"I hope all good things Lord Tyrion."

"Nothing but the best. Oh, and call me Tyrion. Wine?"

"No, thank you … Tyrion. I don't drink."

The look of shock and appraisal appeared in his Lannister green eyes as she gazed back with an aloof but honest expression. Tarya didn't know what to make of the littlest Lannister lion. She didn't know if he was trying to charm her or interrogate her. She knew that he was one of the nicer men and one of the most powerful too. But honestly, despite his good looks for a dwarf, Tarya didn't see the appeal that Aesha has seen so far in him. Maybe it was his wits and sense of humor?

"You must admit that when the _Hound_ of all people crowned you his queen of love and beauty, _everyone_ was shocked." She gave him no reaction to the comment of Sandor's nickname except for a slight twitch of her jaw that only Aesha noticed. "Out of all the tournament's he has won thus far he has refused to crown any one of the ladies. His exact words were 'a bunch of simpering, chirping cunt birds with no fight in them.' So, what is it that makes you so special?"

That sounded just like Sandor from what she knew and observed thus far. It made her lips twitch as she fought the urge to smile fondly. She then took a sip of her water keeping her darker green gaze on Tyrion's lighter Lannister green. She then leaned forward a bit and smirked with confidence.

"Give a dog kindness, and he will consider you his true master. Give a man kindness, and he will give you his trust and loyalty. Give a warrior something to protect, and he will cherish and safeguard it with his life. Give a man defiance, and he will respect you more than he would respect the weak-willed, sheltered birds of nobility."

Tarya was relishing in the shell-shocked look on Tyrion's face as she finished off her water and stood up excusing herself. She smiled triumphantly before wiping it off her face as she held the Lannister crimson-colored package was held in her hands wrapped up in a shimmering golden and black velvet ribbon. Her feet led her in line behind the lords and ladies partaking in gifting the young Prince for his name-day. She, for the third or fourth time that evening, hoped that her gift was enough to appease him.

Ignoring all the stares that she had gotten from those around her, Tarya gulped nervously as she approached the dias giving a curtesy out of respect. When she came back up, she caught the curious gazes of the Queen and her children. She presented her gift to Prince Joffrey giving him a kind smile surprising him slightly.

"My Queen, with your permission, I would like to give your son, the Crown Prince, a handmade gift."

Tarya caught the appraising expression of her cousin and Queen as she stared into those cold and nearly lifeless Lannister green eyes. With a hesitant and slow nod, Tarya stepped a bit closer and handed Joffrey the large package watching as he grabbed it with curiosity and excitement in his eyes. He seemed to unwrap the present slowly and with care, never had got a handmade gift before, and then opened the wooden casing gasping in shock and awe. With shaky hands he picked up the golden lion first examining the articulated joints and stroking the soft fur that covered the wooden structure to give a more realistic look. Cersei was as shocked as Joffrey was and then he gently picked up the equally articulated, fully furred, black stag with awe and swirling emotions in his eyes.

She watched with a humbled demeanor and smiled sheepishly. "I hope they please you, your Grace."

"Tell me, who and where did you have them commissioned? They will not go unrewarded for their hard work and skills."

Tarya blushed terribly and rubbed her newly calloused hands together as she looked at the Queen with an honest expression.

" _I_ was the one who made them, your Grace."

"You made them?"

She nodded and smiled kindly at the younger prince and princess as she held her hands together in front of her.

"Yes, your Graces. It had taken a few months to acquire everything to make them, but I thought that the Crown Prince should at least get _one_ present made by hand for his name-day."

"T-Thank you, my lady."

"I'm no lady, your Grace. Just a simple woman showing kindness to a young boy on the day of his birth."

Tarya gave a kind smile to the 10-year-old giving a polite curtesy before walking away. She had felt relieved and happy at seeing the genuine smile on the Prince's face at receiving her gift. She also knew that Cersei had seen the Lannister features on her face. Tarya knew she did, and will no doubt be sending word to her _beloved_ uncle, Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.

Sandor saw everything and while he was both impressed and proud of how well she handled herself in front of the Lannisters. He was also impressed by the amount of work and details she had placed into the toys for Joffrey. Seeing the look of glee and awe in the boy's eyes, he knew that those toys were not going anywhere anytime soon. Sandor can only imagine how well Robert would receive Joffrey's name-day request from his "father". And also if Robert would actually do it or not.


End file.
